


building policy

by campaignmug18



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Don't Ask, F/M, Fluff, I made Threepio a tyrannical apartment super, Secret Identity, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campaignmug18/pseuds/campaignmug18
Summary: One Valentine's Day, a cynical Leia Skywalker comes home to her New York apartment to find a bouquet and a note from an anonymous building resident. She takes up a correspondence with the secret admirer and it's not a fanfiction unless she doesn't suspect it's her irritating, Ford Falcon-driving neighbor.Hanleia modern neighbors AU that's purely just Valentine's Day cynicism and fluff.





	building policy

**Author's Note:**

> this is so old, please forgive me if it's terrible
> 
> also i made chewie a dog i'm so sorry he's actually one of my favorite characters, i just wrote this according to a (non-AO3) friend's request

No matter how enchanted Leia was with the city, even she would admit that it was miserable in midwinter. In the three years she had lived in New York, January and February seemed to be long, cold, grey deaths. There was no sunlight and everything seemed devoid of life and happiness. When she made her daily trek home from her midtown office, the sun had already set, stranding her in the darkness. 

Nevertheless, the dark-haired woman walked briskly down the streets, ignoring her emotions and the ringing that refused to leave her ears. Cars flew down the roads and cold air made her cheeks red, but she continued nonetheless. Today, particularly, she was desperate to return to the warmth of her tiny apartment and do nothing but watch her favorite movies.

_ None of the romantic ones _ , a little voice sang in her head. Leia silently agreed. Despite the legendary date, she wanted positively nothing to do with romance or love. Sure, she’d call her dreamy mother back in Chicago and make sure to check up on her serene brother, but save for those familial obligations, she refused to acknowledge that there was anything special about February 14.

As she clung to her bag, cynical thoughts raced through her head. Valentine’s Day was nothing but an excuse for the most sex-depraved idiots to do something out of the ordinary in their mundane lives. Those people, possibly a separate species from the driven lawyer, were so insecure in their own sense of accomplishment that they needed external validation from romantic partners. They were so desperate to feel loved and adored that they would humiliate themselves with such tacky romantic paraphernalia or large-scale gestures. She found the entire premise to be utterly ridiculous and other than the office celebration she was obligated to attend, she would simply ignore the occasion altogether. 

Leia swore under her breath as she clumsily mounted the stairs and struggled to find the buzzer in the darkness. When she finally found herself in the building, she felt her back and shoulders loosen in the cozy, warm air of the pre-war building. Her mother and father had balked at the idea of her living in an admittedly dump of an apartment. Leia found it facetious that she was expected to consider the opinions of one of the most prominent families in her home city, being composed of the DA and a high-ranking, highly admired soldier. She didn’t want to start out with a silver spoon in her mouth; she wanted to prove her right to achieve success and even if it meant living in a slightly-dangerous neighborhood in a gross apartment, so be it. She was determined to find professional success more than anything. Her lifelong commitment to justice had driven her to law school and it had been her dream to be doing opposition political research as a lawyer in that tiny, clandestine firm with one of her legal idols. They’d be working day and night, taking risks and uncovering political secrets that shocked her to the bone. She felt she was making a real difference in the world and it wasn’t because of her parents or the Skywalker name, it was because of  _ her _ . 

Her spine was rigid and she held her chin up as she quickly mounted the steep stairs that led up to her tiny walk-up on the third floor. Her chest heaved, out of breath from walking from the office. Her eyes drooped with exhaustion; she had told herself that by working herself nearly to death that day that she was making a political statement. She simply couldn’t wait to get out of her white dress and take out her braided bun, tuck herself under a pile of thick blankets with something to eat and the hard liquor of her fancy, and turn on her favorite action movie or pick up one of her old mystery novels. Anything gruesome, really, that wouldn’t remind her of the egregious holiday in her midst. 

Her eyes didn’t go immediately to it when she entered the narrow, dimly-lit hall. She yawned, barely taking notice of any of the flyers her neighbors had pinned up. She imagined the relief of taking of her heels and forgetting about the whole stupid day. Suddenly, her foot hit it and she looked down, horrified at the possibilities.

It was an understatement to say that she was pleasantly surprised. The bouquet, delivered in a foot-proof vase, was full of some of the loveliest flowers she had ever seen. And despite her racing mind, it seemed to make the infinitesimal sentimental side of her sing in joy. It was a collection of white flowers, some of which she recognized as hydrangeas and gardenia and white roses. Complementing them were rich green stems, adding a nuanced, cool tone. Barely noticeable were a few tiny pink flowers that were practically cream and resembled a rosè. It was quite aesthetically pleasing, she told herself. A wide grin was plastered onto her face and she bent over to pick them up. It was her ideal bouquet, it had to have been from somebody who knew her. Or at least, she smiled to herself, somebody who had excellent taste in flowers. 

When she let herself in, Leia quickly set the vase down on her kitchen counter and scanned for a note. Indeed, there was a small one hanging off one of the stems. Frantically, she opened it. It had to be a joke from Luke, it had to be. Nobody besides for her parents and her old friends knew her so well and they wouldn’t send them. She quickly ran through the note.

_ To: 3C _

_ Thanks for being the only one to actually recycle discarded flyers. It prevents me from having to take extraordinarily detrimental action.  _

_ From: 2B _

Her first instinct was to laugh. It was an inside joke among the residents of the building; Threepio, their neurotic landlord, had called nearly a dozen mandatory resident meetings in the span of a single month about the horrible “travesty” of leaving torn-down flyers scattered on the floor of the halls. He had been so worked up about it and had made so many empty threats, including taking “extraordinarily detrimental action” to stop the trend. The whole saga had been irritating; it was unnecessary and a distraction from her pressing work, but she would admit that she found parts of it hilarious. The message was clearly not a commendation for anything, despite the fact that she had absent-mindedly started picking up flyers and had been publicly praised by Threepio for that behind her back. In fact, that was probably the reasoning behind 2B’s message.

She was amused by the note and the wit of the sender, but immediately after, a pressing question began to roar in her head. Who  _ had  _ sent it? She had their apartment number, but she had never met the resident of 2B. Should she confront them? She immediately rejected the silly notion. Her old social shyness, a sensation limited to her high school years, that she had conquered early in life overtook her once more. And anyway, there were much more entertaining ways to respond.

Her resolve solid, she removed the flowers from the delivery vase and placed one in the glass one she owned and added some water. She quickly grabbed a bottle of some strong alcohol from a cabinet, ready to choose a movie to watch, feeling the tension that had grown throughout the day dissolve as she reclined into the pillows that decorated her small couch. She sighed, her mind buzzing with ideas for her response. 

The next night, as the headstrong young lawyer climbed the steep staircases of her building, a small, white box could be seen in her hands. The corners of her small mouth were turned upward as she glanced down at the carefully planned note attached to it. The letters were lightly pressed into the scrap of paper, which was precisely taped to the box, read a reference that made her giggle at the thought of it. As she reached the second floor, her cheeks reddened as she began to feel the same frivolous bashfulness that prevented her from a direct response. 

Leia quickly scanned the hallway, checking the letters on the brown-painted doors. She caught sight of the ‘B’ and lightly walked toward it. The sound of her feet was barely audible. It would have been mortifying to have the rest of the neighbors, or perhaps even worse, 2B, catch her in the act. She hastily set the box, full of the chocolates sold by a store down the block, on the grimy doormat that lay before the door. She turned away directly after setting it down and tried to look back as she fled back into the safe anonymity of the stairwell. She bit her lip as she silently remembered what she had written, a direct spin on one of Threepio’s more cringe-worthy lines.

_ To: 2B _

_ I suppose if I really wanted to follow building policy, I could report you for harassment and stalking. But as our most admirable landlord once stated, I suppose I can overlook the most minor of violations for the sake of the institution of rules. _

_ Lovely flowers, by the way. My favorite.  _

_ From: 3C _

She expected the notes to stop; she doubted the resident of 2B was stubborn enough to continue on just for the sake of amusement. Yet when she returned from a particularly grueling day of work the next evening, she nearly tripped over the tiny stuffed toy that lay on the ground.

Leia kneeled down to pick it up. It was a small brown bear with a rather garish red ribbon tied around its neck. Attached to the ribbon was a small yellow Post-It, no doubt with a facetious note scrawled upon it. 

_ To: 3C _

_ One day, we’ll be bowing down Threepio as a deity, part of his worldwide authoritarian regime, no doubt.  _

_ From: 2B _

Once she stumbled into the apartment, it took her a good ten minutes to stop laughing. 

The exchange of notes continued. Leia would have expected the elusive sender to run out of ideas after a few days, but for a week the gifts continued on, every one of them original. While she mostly stook to the banal tokens, she would find boxes of doughnuts or a cup of hot coffee on the threshold, gifts she thoroughly joined after a tedious day at the office. The notes, while never revealing anything personal besides the wit and humor of both correspondents, soon moved from mocking Threepio to one-liners pertaining to the bizarre behavior of their fellow residents. They never failed to make Leia laugh, though questions lingered in her mind about the identity of her secret pen-pal. 

Work one day had been rather slow and Mon, her boss, had allowed Leia to leave a few minutes early, despite the young woman’s objections. The day was still bright as she walked up the pavement, a box of soft pretzels from a local place in hand. The traces of a smile might have even been found upon her usually dour face as she turned the corner to the building. As she came closer, she felt all traces of cheer slowly crumble as she caught sight of the monstrosity in front of the building. A young man was in sight, as was one rather atrocious car.

“Excuse me? What’s this?” Leia inquired after the rather dirty man. His back was to her, but she could see a darkened cloth was in his hand, obviously contaminated from his work on the car.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” The man’s voice was gruff and seemed to fry her nerves as soon as it rang out. He turned and she caught sight of his face.

She later reprimanded herself for the frivolous thoughts, but her initial impression completely pertained to his physical features. His jawline was sharp and his dark hair was a bit scruffy and long, cut right above his ears. His eyes were hazel and his shoulders were broad. He carried himself with the gruffy possession that, despite herself, made her blood run hot. As he drew closer to her, she looked him up and down. He was decorated with a blue windbreaker on top of a white collared shirt. And despite how formal and reserved her outfit was, she felt odd dressed in the white pantsuit with her hair braided at the top of her head. White was always her color but the formality of her work clothes contrasted with his casual get-up.

“I don’t recognize your face,” the man suddenly changed topic, donning a cocky grin- smirk, more like it, that made her heart pound more than she would care to admit. 

“Leia,” she responded cooly, extending her pale hand to him. “I’m a resident of the building.”

He didn’t shake her hand, putting them up instead as to show how dirty they were. “As I am, miss. Han. Han Solo.”

“Fascinating. I hope you know that you’re not supposed to park outside this building.” As she spoke, she coldly regarded the vehicle he was working on. It was an old car, painted a light blue and obviously scraped up it. Though the windows were tinted with what was no doubt age and nothing else, she could so clearly see all the junk that was piled up against the ancient leather seats.

“Just doing a bit of maintenance, princess,” he absent-mindedly responded, turning away from her and toying with something under the hood of the car.

“Princess?” Leia spluttered, completely shocked by _ Han’s  _ blatantly crude manner. She could feel her face scrunch up as she raised her voice and continued her verbal assault.

“I don’t know where you’re from and who you are, but this piece of junk isn’t supposed to be here, so I advise you  _ move it _ !” Leia continued sharply. Her brown eyes hardened as Han turned around to face her.

“Piece of junk? This is a 1962 Ford  _ Falcon _ !” 

“Do I look like I care?” Leia mordantly shot back. She placed her hand on her hip, still gripping the box of pretzels. 

“Didn’t strike me as Threepio’s enforcer,” Han muttered under his breath. Leia’s eyes widened in anger, rash anger that seemed to consume every diplomatic instinct in her body.

“ _ Enforcer?  _ Because I want the street to be clear?” Leia replied in disbelief. 

“Doesn’t seem like you should care, considering you made your approach on foot,” Han caustically responded, not bothering to turn around and face her. Leia felt as if she could  _ strangle  _ this stranger, but her enraged thoughts were interrupted by an impromptu entrance. 

Stirred out of their increasingly intense spat, Han kneeled down to rub the ear of the large, brown dog. A foolish grin was suddenly plastered onto his face.

“Hey, Chewie!” Han greeted the dog. Leia felt her gaze soften, though she was still wary of him, as she watched him interact with the animal.

“Is this your dog?” Leia tentatively asked, trying to shy away from the combative nature of the past few moments. Immediately, she was drawn to him, despite her previous disgust. 

“Yeah, you a dog person?” Han casually replied, his voice still rough and infuriating but kinder than before.

“Yes. I don’t have time to take care of one, though. My brother has this awful old cat, though, if that counts for anything.”

“I should be going inside,” Leia changed the subject, the box of pretzels suddenly feeling quite heavy in her hands. Even as a lawyer by profession, she was drained of all pugnacious energy by the appearance of the dog.

She turned on her heels and entered the building, ignoring the burning desire to turn back and catch a glance of Han Solo. She had a package to deliver, after all.

Four weeks of notes passed rather quickly. Leia found after the first week that every day, she looked forward to coming home to some hysterical joke. The gifts had gotten less romantic and more friendly in the past few weeks. A few nights before, she had even received some take-out Chinese food that she ate for dinner and had even received some wine. 

As she continued the exchange, she had become increasingly involved in the building in other ways. Well, one way, really. She’d go into work an hour or so early just to get off before the sun had set. Han had continued the repairs on his  _ Falcon _ , something that aggravated her to no end. She was determined to have the street clear, no matter her motivation, and if it meant castigating him on a daily basis, so be it. 

One afternoon, as she walked through the brisk March air, significantly warmer than February’s, she approached the building to find no trace of the worn  _ Falcon.  _ Indeed, Han seemed to have removed all his tools that for so long had polluted the street. Despite a small feeling of accomplishment, she couldn’t place a sinking feeling that arose inside of her. She doubted she would ever have a significant encounter with him again.

Leia had come home early for no reason, then, she supposed. She had to find something to occupy her until then. It was 2B’s day, right? However, she was still the high school overachiever at heart and she didn’t mind getting a head start on her gift for the next day. After all, it meant she could spend her lunch break doing more productive things…

Resolved, she quickly abandoned her briefcase in her apartment and opted for her large wallet. She quickly found herself running to a local coffee shop. She knew that they sold some of the best kettle corn in the city and had been dying to gift it to 2B.

She quickly entered the empty coffee shop, card in hand, paying little attention to her surroundings. She had been there multiple times in the past three years. However, as she turned to face the counter, she was shocked to catch a glimpse of the customer before her.

Desperate not to interact with him, she quickly ducked out of the shop as he paid for whatever he was purchasing. She pressed herself to the window and watched as he turned in the opposite direction towards their building. Before he was out of sight, she caught sight of the same kettle corn she had planned to buy. 

So that night, as she stumbled upon the gift, she went dizzy as she realized she had received a bag of the specialty kettle corn from the same shop. 

_ To: 3C _

_ I know the odds are on you being one of the typical knucklehead residents here but how about I pick you up for dinner four or five nights from now? _

_ From: 2B _

Writing the next note was a painful task. Leia had considered going down and immediately confronting him, but ultimately, she decided she would rather not be flustered by his more attractive features and infuriating grin. 

_ What happened to the car?  _ the note currently read.  _ No _ , she thought. It wasn’t specific enough, not as witty as she would have liked it to be. Another possibility was asking him about his dog, but all of them seemed mundane. And it didn’t respond the the proposed date, the very thought of it making her heart pound. 

_ As long as you don’t call me “princess”,  _ she quickly scrawled down. She placed it on the gift for the night and hurried down to place it on his mat.

The gift the next night was quite unorthodox, though Leia wasn’t sure what she expected after what she had sent the previous night. In fact, it wasn’t a gift so much, judging by the grin that drove her insane. However, as she approached the door to find him leaning against it, his face was solemn.

“3C.” Han stated cooly as she pulled her keys out of her bag, though the thought of her apartment was long forgotten. Her heart began to thump in her chest, whether it be out of fear or jubilation. She had been genuinely curious about the identity and to have it revealed to be Han… well, she wasn’t quite sure what to think.

“2B.” Leia replied hesitantly. Her face was burning bright red, she knew it. She shifted her weight side to side, feeling rather embarrassed as she drew near. 

“Oh, I should’ve considered all the possibilities. I was scared it be a nut, didn’t even think of you!”

“Me?” Leia spat in disbelief. “ _ I _ should be mad! You’re the one who’s been sending me flowers and- and other sweet things and it turns out to be  _ you _ !”

“What’s wrong with me?” Han removed his hand from the back of his neck. Leia felt herself trembling in- what was it? Anticipation? Anxiety?

“Wel- well, for one, your car is a wreck!”

“It’s over fifty years old! It’s priceless!” Han replied defensively. Though she would never admit it, she found his attachment to his car adorable if not slightly off-putting.

Seeing her facial features soften, his voice became gentler. “The repairs did an awful lot for an engine, maybe someday I could take you for a ride.”

“Now, why would I want to do that with a scoundrel?” Her voice was sharp, but he must have known she had a strange sense of humor from all their notes. 

“ _ Scoundrel _ ? I like that,” Han smirked. Her face grew a deeper shade of pink at the expression.

_ Of course he would,  _ she thought.

“I happen to like nice men,”  she stubbornly replied, lifting her chin. 

“I am nice men,” Han’s voice became lower. Suddenly, her breathing seemed very fast and heavy as he seemed to move closer to her.

“We could always move that evening up two nights,” Leia propositioned impulsively, her emotions seeming to overcome all logic. She took a step closer to her once-dreaded neighbor.

“Really?” Han cocked his head to the left, grinning at her. Her mouth pressed into a smile at the sight of that. She had never been close enough to admire the hazel of his eyes.

“And I know you have a great recommendation for some Chinese food. Do you think they’ll deliver?” Leia practically murmured, her heart pounding  _ hard _ . She nudged to the door he was leaning on, grasping her keys.

“And  _ I know  _ you have a wonderful bottle of wine that’s not yet, what, three days old.”

“Hmm,” Leia muttered. Suddenly, impulsively, she twisted her hand into his, realizing as soon as she did that she liked the feel of the interaction.

“Sounds like a plan, princess.”

Despite previous objections, Leia decided she could like the sound of it in the future. She hastily unlocked the door. She pushed it open, raising her dark eyebrows at her tall date. As they both slid into the apartment ever so smoothly, he placed a gentle hand on the small of her back back and her heart began to beat quicker than ever before. 

“Wait,” Leia pulled away. “Displays of affection visible to other residents go against building policy. Don’t wait to offend our Lord and Savior, Threepio.” She smiled sweetly up at him, her eyes shining with mischief.

“Swear he’ll be controlling everything at some point,” Han muttered. Finding a quick solution to the problem, he slammed the door shut behind them. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: queenofdebate


End file.
